Ego Bestia
by Cornuthaum
Summary: One boy holds within his mind monsters and heroes, devils and gods, all in his quest to save mankind from itself. Only when it is too late does he realize that there is no-one left to save him.


Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, I would have the money to buy all the bacon I wanted. But I don't. So, no bacon.

The first time my friends consider something might be wrong is when I kill a man in cold blood.

No, don't look at me like that: He had it coming. I merely exacted tribute: An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life.

He killed one of ours, and thought that I would grant him the chance to end his own life?

Takaya was dreadfully wrong. My sword leaves my hand in a perfect arc, and, startled by the sudden agony of an arm-length blade sticking from his thigh, Revolver Jesus lets go of his bespectacled companion Jin.

We hear the boy's surprised scream as he falls off the bridge into the river below, turned into blood by the twisted magicks of the Dark Hour.

But Takaya is still left standing, staring numbly at what I have done.

So is everyone else. Why? Why can't they realize that it's the only logical thing to do?

The only words that escape my lips as I grasp my back-up weapon - a long knife originally meant for Koromaru - are '[I]For Shinjiro[/I]'.

One swing is all it takes.

Dismissing Anubis, the God of Judgement, I clean my weapons on Takaya's pants - why couldn't he wear a shirt - and call on Loki, the Trickster God.

I explain it to them, my loyal friends and comrades. They of SEES will see the necessity of this act in time.

The second time it happens is when they realize something is wrong. Still, I am their leader, the fearless, peerless warrior that knows no equal in SEES.

Shuji Ikutsuki's death is nasty, brutish and quick: Thanathos shows him no mercy. [I]I[I] show him no mercy.

Death Incarnate howls within the sea of my soul, celebrating its kill. I know my soul too well by now to try and hide the immense satisfaction I feel. Thanathos acted as the extension of my will, and my will alone: I desired the death of the man who betrayed us all and broke Mitsuru's heart. Even now I can see the shards of her usually diamond-hard heart fall all around her as she cradles her dead father in her arms.

It is Junpei who breaks the silence, brave Junpei who grasps me by my a shoulder and slaps me so hard I see stars. How I could do this, he rages! How I could sink to their level.

Why I keep burning my humanity so that none of the others have to, he asks, shooting Aigis a pointed look.

He falls silent when I stare at him, my face still wet with Ikutsuki's blood. Come to think of it, so is one of Junpei's hands. Huh. Why didn't I notice this earlier?

I tell him - I tell all of them - that even if I hadn't done this, even if I had stood back like they did, that man would not have let himself be trussed up and interrogated at our leisure. We all heard him, did we not, when he spoke. The mad nihilism in his voice, the feverish intensity in his eyes... the pistol in his hands.

I tell them that I acted because they are too precious to me, because I would not suffer to see Ikutsuki gun down at least one of them. They flinch, thinking of Shinjiro, and fall silent. Some are even grateful.

But in truth, we killed Shuji Ikutsuki because we desired his death.

More and more often do I find myself acting before our enemies can. As we venture further and further up the spire of Tartarus, the power we dredge from the sea of our souls rises exponentially. And I, the greatest Fool of SEES, manage to unearth the greatest power from within.

Igor is an invalueable aid: With his aid I concentrate the aimless power of my soul into supernatural benefactors of all kinds. Mara is invalueable as I work to bring Mutatsu out of his shell. The old man wonders several times how I, spindle-thin teenager that I am, can out-drink him any day of the week. I do not know how we do it, but hey, it works. All in a day's work.

Mara is quite helpful when it comes to dealing with the distraught Mitsuru, too. We do not know why we do this, as Mara is of the Tower, not the Empress, but when the frightened, lonely Mitsuru all but throws herself at me, we shrug and go with it. Mitsuru is as smart and deadly as she is beautiful, after all, and I know just how brilliant she is.

More and more power comes from the sea of my soul: Ryoji turns out to be the Harbinger of Death, and so we go once more unto the breach, throwing ourselves at the eldritch monsters of Tartarus and, in turn, Monad.

Oh, Monad. Such a terrifying place, but it is necessary. The Lord of Flies is my latest persona, and it is impossible for us to describe the rush we feel every time we are/do called/call out to him. How easily people bow before us. The Prince of Hell is a powerful force, and I find myself less and less able to spare the patience for those who know nothing of the desperate struggle the Nyx Extermination Squad fights in Tartarus.

Strangely enough, Elizabeth has been most... curious every time I/you/we visit the Velvet Room lately. But as long as she and her long-nosed master continue to provide their services, let them be curious.

At last, I/we have done it, at last! We feel the various Judeo-Christian denominations would have conniptions if we were to show them what we have achieved. From the sea of your soul, they have come forth: Satan and Helel. Monad shakes with the almighty thunder of a controlled Armageddon as we bring the cleansing light of heaven and hell to bear against our foes. Ah, it is to great a feeling to describe: All our power channeled into one attack, the way reality itself ignites whenever we desire it to be so. We/I must test this outside the Dark Hour at some point. Surely it should be possible...

Fate seems to conspire against us: Every time we try to test our ability to call onto us/you, we are interrupted. It takes much of our self-control not to walk all over the concerned police officer seeing us with the evoker in hand: he means well, but he takes much of our time. Something that is in increasingly short supply as the end of the month draws near.

Our latest visit to Igor has been most productive: Lucifer completes the trifecta of Hell's greatest residing within your soul. Already, we can see the fusionable permutations stretch before our eyes, and for due compensation, we create Helel anew: The power of one fallen angel now burns within the other, and the thunderclap-implosions of frayed reality snapping shut within Monad becomes an ever-more regular sound.

If we ever doubted our fate, no more. We can rightfully call ourselves humanity's Messiah today, and we proudly welcome that facet as it emerges from the sea of your soul.

It will not do for our allies to be weak: We spend many, many hours within the corridors of dread Monad, and the very power that makes us the greatest also serves to make them greater than what they were before. Their astonished cries of surprise as they realize their new powers are an old hat to us, but we realize not everyone can be gifted with the ability to call on many personae.

By now, the Nyx Extermination Squad hangs onto us like baby ducklings following their mother duck, trying not to get lost. When did they turn from my friends into our followers? But we can see the necessity for it even as we smooth-talk Aigis into giving us her undying loyalty, misgivings about what she calls 'your ever-hardening heart' nonwithstanding.

Can she not see we need this power to attempt the impossible? She of all the people in this dorm should know the power of Death first-hand. Did she not seal Death within us, starting this whole adventure?

And now we sit before Igor, all of us wondering if he would be terribly offended if we were to pull on that incredibly long nose. Maybe. Maybe not. We/I agree, though, that curiosity is not worth possibly antagonizing the man who created most of us in the first place, and I/we concur with that assessment.

Ah, he is finished: Born from the bonds we have forged with our friends over the last nine months, the blank mask lies on the table between Igor and us, and it pulses with power obvious to our many senses.

Born from the sea of your soul, clad in the hopes and dreams of our friends and colleagues, he comes, the best and greatest of us all: Hail Orpheus Telos. It is unfortunate that we only realize what bonding ourselves to their hopes and dreams in this manner will do to them after we have done the deed.

Maybe they can forgive us, maybe not. But for now, they are a part of us, and as the bell tolls and the clock strikes midnight, we go to avert the end of the world.

We can hear them now, our friends: They wonder who we are, why they can hear us. As the last of the Strega is unmade in Armageddon's cleansing flames, they realize that we have been like this for a long time: They realize that Arisato Minato chose us over a more peaceful path, and why he did so.

It takes long minutes for the shock to wear off, by which time we are already caked elbow-deep in the ichor of Nyx' many forms, and we all regret their screams.

But they are part of us now, and in time, we know they will come to understand and accept us as you did.


End file.
